Prologue

"Welcome to the World of Trophies, a realm in which trophies come to life and brawl to the death. Long have I served as the trophy guardian...I am known as Master Hand. I take care of the Smash Bros. fighters, ensure that they do not encounter any danger. To make sure of this, each fighter is given a unique attack, entitled a Final Smash, for use of defense. However, there is one fighter whom lacks a Final Smash..."


Draco shivered in his blankets, barely recovering from the previous day's battles. The wind outside pounded against the windows, and the rain poured against Smash Mansion, making Draco feel ever worse. He kept thinking back to his mission back in London, and how badly he had betrayed his allies.

Finally, the rainstorm stopped and the sun came out. The storm had lasted all night, making its way to the early depths of the next morning, which Draco had no will to notice. Only when he heard a fierce banging did the silver-blond finally awaken.

"Draco! How much longer are you gonna be asleep?!" Draco mentally panicked; the finger pounding on his door was Lucas Lockwood, a veteran smasher from the Brawl tournaments. He pounded on his door again and shouted, "DRACO!"

Draco sighed frustratingly. The last thing he needed was a fellow blond to drag him to the main hall, and he pulled his blankets further over himself. When Lucas pounded on his door and shouted his name a third time, though, Draco had had enough. "Alright, alright, I'm coming out!" he shouted angrily, slipping over his everyday attire a dark green robe and pulling his wand out of its pocket.

Lucas was impatiently tapping his foot on the floor when Draco had come out. "Finally! We've been waiting for you to get out here for an entire hour! Master Hand wants to talk to you," Lucas explained, upon meeting Draco's frustrated gaze.

"Why me?" Draco asked, subtley reaching into his robe pocket for his wand.